


The Kids Aren't Alright

by EmilyKaldwin, misfiredamage



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Might contain spoilers for Dishonored 2 (at least the first mission), Tags will be updated as the story progresses, i am a huge dork and will be rolling for combat and saving throws and such as i write, no critrole ships happen theyre not even hinted at i dont wanna start shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyKaldwin/pseuds/EmilyKaldwin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/misfiredamage/pseuds/misfiredamage
Summary: Just over a year to the day of the fall of the Chroma Conclave, one of Whitestone's major trade partners suddenly cuts off all contact. Vox Machina is sent to investigate, and finds themselves thrown into a series of events that Percy can't help but find eerily familiar (this "Emily" woman even has a coat similar to his).Or, Noble Kids With Blue Coats Who Got Fucked Over By Some Bitch Named Delilah Join Forces.(And yes, the title is absolutely the same as that Fall Out Boy song. It works, okay?)





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worried by the lack of word from one of Whitestone's major trading partners, Cassandra gives Percy a plot hook

After the dragons, the world rebuilt. The heroes took a well deserved long, _long_ rest, some returning to Emon and their keep, others to Vasselheim, others staying in Whitestone, and others... Just helping where they could. They stayed in touch with their scrying spells and stones, as well as the more traditional methods of writing letters.

Just over a year to the day of the Conclave's fall, Percy was informed that his sister had  _summoned_ him. It was an odd feeling, being summoned by the same woman he could remember hiding in their mother's skirts as a young girl, but he answered the summons anyway.

“Percival," she had said, sounding so much like Johanna that Percy's chest felt tight for a moment, “I'm afraid I have some rather concerning news."

He'd been expecting something about the Ziggurat, or... Well, not what she had actually said.

“One of our main trade partners has very suddenly cut off contact with us," she told him. He'd raised a brow and said something sarcastic that made her roll her eyes and sigh.

“The Empire of the Isles, yes, that one, the one you get all your funny little fiddly things from, has... Just stopped responding."

“And what do you suggest I do about this?" Percy had asked, as if he didn't already know the answer.

“I'd like you to gather your friends and investigate this development," Cassandra said as she began to pace, hands clasped behind her back. Percy had opened his mouth to say something, protest, most likely, but he had been silenced with a withering look. “I  _know_ you're getting restless, Percy, don't give me that look. You're not meant to stay cooped up in a castle, not anymore. And I'm sure the rest of Vox Machina is feeling just as caged as you are."

She stopped pacing then, and turned to smile softly at him. “Get your friends, find out if the Empire of the Isles needs help. Don't make me _command_ you, Percival."

And that was how Vox Machina had ended up on a ship, bound for a cluster of four islands to the west of Marquet. They made for the port of the capital of the Empire, a large coastal city called Dunwall, waiting in breathless anticipation for whatever they may find at their destination.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at their destination, Vox Machina finds that the negotiations don't go quite as planned. Elsewhere entirely, a usurped Empress hears word of spies being imprisoned and sentenced to execution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this contains spoilers for the first mission of Dishonored 2, playing as Emily. - Em

It was very awkward, all eight of them plus the helmsman squished onto the tiny boat, but it was (apparently) the only way to get to the palace. Trepidation set heavily onto Percy's shoulders when the heavy door to the tower closed behind them and the pipes in the walls rumbled, water spilling out. Darkness, enclosed spaces, and rushing water were decidedly not things he did well with, and he closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists as he willed himself to not think of the burn of water in his lungs and nose.

The process was over in less than a minute, Vox Machina escorted off the boat and out of the tower and across a short bridge. The sunlight was blinding after the dark building and they all blinked owlishly as their eyes adjusted. A palace of white stone (not _Whitestone_ white stone, Percy noticed even from this distance) greeted them, shining in the weak sunlight that made it through the dreary grey clouds, and they were ushered through a modest (decorative) garden and up a wide set of stairs to the doors.

Once inside, Percy took a moment to appreciate the architecture. White marble stairs swept up to either side of the foyer, the walls at the second level covered in rich, ornate wood panelling. Crystal chandeliers lit the space, and Percy sorely wished he could have time to inspect them, because they didn't seem to be carrying any candles. Alas, the group was rushed along to the throne room of the palace, a grand if somewhat cluttered space. Vines climbed the walls, flowers blooming among the leaves, and more of those strange chandeliers hung from the ceiling. A green rug, trimmed with gold and brown accents, spanned the length of the room to the empty throne at the other end. Vox Machina was brought before it, and told to wait.

“Empress Delilah Kaldwin will be with you shortly," the guard told them before marching off to do whatever it was he had to do, the name sending a spike of fear and panic through Percy.

The door to the room slammed shut as the guard left and Percy fell to his knees, tears streaking down his face as he clutched at his hair with one hand and held his stomach with the other, his breaths quick and shallow, teeth clenched, eyes wide and brows pulling together. He choked out a sob as he hunched over, arms wrapped around his midsection, and his shoulders trembled as he cried.

“Percy..." Keyleth knelt down beside him and rubbed his back in small circles before pulling him into a hug and letting him clutch at her until the panic faded. She gave him a gentle smile when he pulled away and wiped his cheeks and eyes with her thumbs, letting the faintest traces of magic flow from her hands to remove the traces of his hysterics. “It's not her," she murmured, “I promise. We watched her body dissolve in the acid, remember?"

Percy nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath. Keyleth offered him her hand and he gratefully accepted, letting her pull him to his feet and dusting himself off once he was standing. It wouldn't do to appear unkempt in front of an Empress, after all, especially not when they were meeting with her to inquire about the sudden halt in trade. He smoothed his hair, adjusted his glasses, and tugged at his jacket to straighten it before settling into the Proper rest stance.

After waiting for about fifteen minutes, the party's patience began to wear thin. Grog started to fidget, casting glances between the wood panelling and the blade of his axe. _Thankfully_ , in a moment of what could only be narrative perfection, just as the Goliath seemed to be on the verge of making a very poor decision, guards filed into the room and took up positions by the walls.

A woman entered once the guards were in place and took a seat on the throne. Percy was immediately struck with a sense of sickening familiarity, thankfully keeping the wave of panic from overwhelming him this time. _She was dead, she was dead and rotting on Glintshore with a tree growing out of her, it's_ **_not_ ** _her_... He took a deep breath and felt a comforting hand on his arm, saw the smallest of nods from one of the twins out of the corner of his eye.

“So," the woman said, eyeing the group as if sizing them up. “I'm told you're here to discuss trade?"

“We are," Percy answered. He bowed low, gesturing for the others to do the same, and kept his gaze averted from the woman when he straightened. She _far_ outranked him, and he didn't want to offend. “I am Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III, of the city of Whitestone. Myself and my companions have been sent by my sister, Lady Cassandra Johanna Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo, to inquire as to why trade has halted so suddenly and all missives remain unanswered."

The woman stared at him for a long moment, her gaze making him anxious. Finally, her mouth quirked into a smirk and she chuckled. “Emily must think me very stupid indeed if _this_ is what she sends to spy on me," she drawled. “This so-called Whitestone doesn't even _exist_."

She stood up and walked out the way she came, gesturing to the guards as she went. They rushed forward, Vox Machina not even having time to react before manacles were clamped onto their wrists. Grog, laughing, tried to break free, only for electricity to surge through his body. The others, getting the message, went along...  _Mostly_ obediently. Percy kept his expression calm, though his stomach churned and face drained of colour, but Vex fared much worse. Heavy sobs shook her slight frame and she begged the guards to remove the restraints, screaming shrilly and struggling when she was pushed forwards. Vax trembled with fury as his sister's body shook and spasmed as electricity coursed through her and she fell to the ground, stunned.

Soon, for the second... No, third, technically, time in his life, Percy was imprisoned at the hands of a woman named Delilah. Everyone's weapons had been taken, and when Vax's daggers just kept returning to his belt, that was taken as well. And now they sat in cells, awaiting whatever fate had in store for them.

“Percy?"

Keyleth's voice echoed eerily off the walls and floor of the prison, and he looked up to see her pressed against the bars to her cell, staring at him with worry. He approached the bars of his own cell and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Everything's going to be fine, Keyleth, I promise," he said, his voice magnified tenfold from the echo. The fact that not too long ago _she_ had been comforting _him_ was not lost on him. “We'll figure something out... We always do."

He oh so desperately wanted to believe his own words.

 

* * *

 

Karnaca was, for lack of a better term, a diamond in the rough.

Known as the “Jewel of the South at the Edge of the World", which honestly was a mouthful, the capital city of the Isle of Serkonos was the southernmost city of the Empire and, if one were to believe those who saw the Pandyssian continent as better left forgotten, the world. Its port district, where the smell of rotting whale meat and the incessant buzzing of bloodflies took over the senses, formed the gateway to the wealthier Aventa neighborhood, where the rich lay around in furniture paid with the blood of the Dust District's silver miners. The crescent moon of the city hugging the Karnacan coast had a lone shining star in the water: the Addermire Institute, a rocky island where the sick could rest in the sea air, connected by an electric railroad to the mainland's carriage station. Enjoying a warmer climate than the other Isles of the empire prompted its inhabitants to don less apparel than elsewhere, which made the heavily blue-coated figure walking the windy streets stand out even more.

“The Grand Guard won't like you covering your face!" An onlooker shouted as the young woman readjusted the scarf obscuring the bottom half of her face. _Oh, I bet they'd like me even less if I didn't_ , she thought bitterly as she sped past them. After all, being a known fugitive with a face stamped on every coin minted in the past fifteen years does make subtlety harder.

As she tried to hug the rickety walls of the buildings, her eyes landed upon one of the dreadful banners hanging in the open, proclaiming LONG LIVE EMPRESS DELILAH KALDWIN to those unaware of the coup that had shaken the Empire's leadership. At that, Empress Emily Kaldwin spat on the foul-smelling blood canal.  _You don't deserve that name, witch!_

They had chosen their timing perfectly. It was the fifteenth anniversary of the death of Empress Jessamine, her mother, and everyone's guard was lowered. Even her father, the Royal Protector Corvo Attano, had his usually sharp mind clouded by grief even as he had tried to keep a strong face for his daughter. But even at his best he couldn't have guessed the treachery of her vassals, who conspired for who knows how long to put _the witch_ in her place. And now Delilah Copperspoon called herself the rightful Empress and strutted around in Dunwall Tower, probably looking on smugly to the stone form of Corvo, frozen in an attempt to fight yet another attempt to steal her throne.

_I'll come back for you Father, I promise._

A nearby shout interrupted her reverie.

“By the Outsider's crooked cock!"

The man threw down his cards while his friend laughed and pulled to his side the handful of coins they had been passing around for an hour now. Still shaken, Emily quickened her pace in the bloodstained streets while trying to push another uncomfortable thought aside.

The Outsider.

Of course she knew the Outsider was bad news. The Abbey of the Everyman, sole bastion of truth and light in a dark and bleary world (according to them at least), had made sure every denizen of the Isles knew of the dark eyed boy with malice exuding from his every gift. It wasn't as if the Abbey was composed of the most trusting people in the Empire, she thought as she snuck past one of their Overseers rambling about eternal damnation to a crowd of two, but she had to admit they might be onto something. One doesn't reign over an otherworldly plane of frozen memories and revel in inflicting madness and genius in equal measure upon those one finds interesting without getting a dubious reputation after all.

“ _What would you do to get it back?"_

Her father had always been cryptic about how his abilities had come to him. Of course, in the years following her abduction ( _abductions_ , she corrected herself), he hardly spoke at all; she always wondered what Coldridge Prison had done to him that would have made him unable to speak for so long, but had never dared ask. But there were whispers; whispers of a deal made with the Outsider, of conversing with rats and turning enemies to ash and walking the Void to appear in different places. And there was also the strange carvings he stared at when he thought she wasn't looking. And the left hand he always kept covered, sometimes rubbing the back as if something on his skin was burning. But a deal with the Outsider? Was putting her back on the throne that important to him?

_“What would you do to get it back?"_

At first she only thought it had been a particularly realistic dream, a mixture of the ship's constant movement and Meagan's questionable culinary skills. Of course she wanted to oust the usurper and gain back her honor, but taking on the Outsider's mark? Getting aid from her mother's bewitched heart as her soul whispered secrets in her ear? That was a bit much. But every time she closed her eyes she could see it again: him standing amongst black smoke, promising to give her the means to exact her revenge, and her hesitantly agreeing. And she couldn't ignore the arcane symbol adorning her left wrist, pulsing with an eerie internal flame every time she thought of the ones that stole her empire, her family, from her.

_"What would you do to get it back?"_

With a sigh, she reached out her hand and clenched it, and indigo tendrils surrounded by wisps of Void-smelling smoke thrusted her forward on the nearby roof.

Her mission seemed simple, of course: go to Addermire. Speak with doctor Hypatia for information on her Royal Physician's whereabouts. It was a flimsy lead, of course, but it was the only one she could pursue at the moment; Sokolov had only left a cryptic message hinting that he knew who the one murdering her political opponents, the so-called Crown Killer was, and Meagan Foster, the ship captain who had helped her flee Dunwall, had pointed her in that direction. Of course, she had to get _to_ Addermire first.

Sneaking towards the electric carriage station, her thoughts were interrupted once again by the screech of the public announcement speakers. Usually she tuned them out, but this time the message seemed different than the bile she heard most of the time.

“Let it be known that Emily Attano, the usurper and accomplice to the Crown Killer, has been sending spies to plot against and murder the rightful Empress Delilah Kaldwin the First. These criminals will be jailed and executed, as per the laws against high treason. Anyone caught harboring the fugitive will suffer the same fate. Long live Empress Delilah Kaldwin."

 _Spies? Plotting?_ Emily stopped in disbelief. _Could there be some loyalists still in activity in Dunwall?_ She mentally recoiled at the word _loyalists_ : it's what the men of the Hound Pits had called themselves fifteen years ago, those men that had used her father's trust to prop themselves up under the guise of rescuing her and who had left him to the hagfishes once he had done everything they wanted.

Still.

If there was a chance that those spies were on her side, that meant they were in grave danger. Coldridge Prison wasn't a walk in the park, and if her first impression of Delilah was correct the execution she had in mind was going to be public and bloody, possibly involving one of the clockwork automatons she had used in her coup. She had to do something.

 _Meagan is going to kill me_ , she thought as she turned around to go back to the dockyard, a fresh plan in mind and, for the first time in days, the assurance that she knew what she was doing.

After all, breaking out of Coldridge was a bit of a family tradition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiberius is alive because fuck you - Percy  
> This takes place at the beginning of Edge of the World for those following at home, also I apologize if the quotes are not accurate my memory is shite. - Em
> 
> Rolls made in the Vox Machina half of this chapter:  
> \- Perception check in the palace foyer  
> \- Constitution saving throw for Percy upon hearing the name Delilah: Natural one  
> \- Constitution saving throw for Percy upon seeing Delilah and noticing her resemblance to Ripley: Natural 19, total 23 (I think. I didn't write it down)  
> \- Lightning damage against Grog from the manacles: 16 points of damage  
> \- Constitution saving throw for Grog against being stunned by the manacles: Natural fifteen, total 25  
> \- Constitution saving throw for Percy to avoid a panic attack at being restrained: Natural twelve, total 19  
> \- Constitution saving throw for Vex to avoid a panic attack at being restrained: Natural seven, total 9  
> \- Lightning damage against Vex from the manacles: 11 points of damage  
> \- Constitution saving throw for Vex against being stunned from the manacles: Natural two, total 4


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paths cross, and neither party knows what they've gotten themselves into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for implications/threats of assault, gore
> 
> I would just like extend my most sincere apologies for this taking so long to update. What you're seeing is most certainly not the entirety of what we had planned for this chapter, but we'd decided we'd left this story in limbo long enough. - Percy

Four days. They'd been in the prison for four days already, and it was looking like they would be there for many more. The twins had their thieves' tools confiscated after their first and only failed escape attempt, and that had been what had killed the last shred of hope any of them held. They all dealt with their imprisonment in different ways. Tiberius paced and played with small flames, Keyleth druidcrafted little flowers on the walls and bars of her cell, Grog punched things, Vax sulked, Vex did the same, Scanlan hummed to himself and tapped little rhythms out, Pike prayed, and Percy...

Percy, admittedly, could be coping better. He had shut down sometime during the second day, and was only seeming to go through the motions of existing. When he wasn't eating the bland meals provided, he was either laying on the cot in his cell staring at the ceiling or sitting hunched in the corner, staring at the guards that passed by with alternating empty looks and scathing glares. His clothes, normally spotless and neat, had become far more rumpled and dirty than seemed possible in the short time they'd been locked up.

“Guys, I'm worried about Percy," Keyleth whispered one day. Their earrings, thankfully, had not been taken, so they could still communicate without drawing attention to it. “He's... He's starting to act like he was when we found him in Stillben..."

“I'm sure he's fine," Pike answered under her breath. She knelt at the edge of her cot, head bowed, and to any passing guard she would look like she was just praying more.

“No, you guys, he's... He doesn't really _do_ anything except eat the meals he's given," Keyleth muttered, glancing across the hallway into Percy's cell, where he was sitting in the corner with his back to the wall and knees up against his chest, his head tilted back to stare at the ceiling.

“Well, it's not like there's much _to_ do, darling," Vex said as she fidgeted with her amulet as she had taken to doing. She didn't dare let Trinket out, though; who knew what the guards would do to a bear that suddenly appeared in a cell?

“I can hear you all talking about me, you know."

Everyone froze at Percy's voice. He hadn't spoken for at least two days, and it was painfully evident. His words were quiet, hoarse and raspy, and utterly empty of emotion. Tears welled up in Keyleth's eyes at how _broken_ her best friend sounded, and she clapped a hand over her mouth when she caught his gaze across the way. His eyes were ringed with dark circles while the whites were bloodshot, tear tracks cutting through the dirt on his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak again and his lips, dry as they were, cracked and started bleeding.

“I... This is not a situation I enjoy being in," he said, and Grog snorted.

“None of us like this, you know," the Goliath rumbled, and Keyleth smiled ever so slightly when she saw Percy roll his eyes.

“I know," Percy sighed, “but please remember that I've been in... Similar circumstances before. This is all bringing back memories I would rather have stayed buried."

“Oh, Percy," Pike murmured, voice heavy with worry. “I hadn't even considered... This must be just awful for you..."

A muffled grunt of agreement came from Tiberius, who had been muzzled like a dog after he had blown fire at a guard. Percy, meanwhile, had whimpered out something that sounded like a yes, and Vox Machina could hear his quiet sobs not only through their earrings, but echoing off the stone walls and floor as well.

“Hey!"

Quick footfalls heralded the approach of a guard, and the man in question stopped in front of Percy's cell to rattle the bars.

“Shut up in there! I don't want to hear any of that pathetic snivelling!"

Percy shrunk back from the shouting and rattling bars, but nodded and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his coat, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. The guard, however, apparently had been having a bad day, because he kept up his taunts.

“I can't wait until you freaks are executed," he snarled, pushing his face against the bars of Percy's cell with a wicked grin. “It's disgusting, the way you cling to that Serkonan bitch. You've even got a stupid little coat like her's."

“Leave him alone!" Keyleth yelled from her cell. She paled when the guard turned around and charged to her cell, crying out in pain when he reached in and grabbed her by the hair.

“Why should I?" The guard growled. “You gonna offer me a _distraction_?"

Keyleth's skin crawled as his gaze drifted lower and he licked his lips. “Get your hands off me," she spat, trying desperately to keep a tremble out of her voice.

“Shut up," he snapped and tugged on her hair as his grin changed to one of perverse delight. “Really a shame you've got to die... Really a shame there's these bars between us, actually. Wanna know what I'd do to you?"

Before the guard could elaborate on his plans, he was suddenly snatched from the cell bars and started hanging upside down, held in mid-air by what appeared to be a cloud of black smoke. No, on closer inspection, it seemed to be some kind of smoke _creature_ , four-limbed and prowling, with one tendril holding the guard by the foot and another tentatively hovering in the space beneath his upended head. Before Keyleth could take another breath, the shadow arm lunged forwards and tore the guard's head from his shoulders in one fell swoop, strangling the scream that was beginning to form in his throat. As his limp body fell on the prison's dirty floor, the smoke started to spin rapidly on the spot, and after another heartbeat dissolved to reveal a masked woman crouching in its place.

With a tiny smile, Emily straightened and admired her work. Years of training with her father had made her really good at sneaking into that blasted prison, and her newfound powers had also been a great help as she snuck into the holding cells. She looked around, expecting to finally see people glad to recognize her.

“No!"

That was... Not what she had expected. The man in the cell opposite to the one the guard had been in front of was curled up in the corner, rocking on his heels and clutching at his hair as he screamed and sobbed.

“Not again! I won't do this again, no! Please, please, anything but that!" He was hysterical, eyes wide and panicked, and he screamed again when she approached his cell.

“Don't touch me, don't come near me!" He shrieked as he pressed himself against the wall in a desperate attempt to get away from her. His chest heaved with shallow breaths and he stared at her without blinking as tears rolled down his cheeks, and he pressed his lips together before yelling again. “My soul is my own! You can't have it!"

“Um." Emily stared in confusion at the man she had, arguably, saved from certain doom. “Alright. Not really interested in souls. You can keep it. Um..."

“Hey. Psst."

The voice came from another cell, one holding a woman with a long dark braid and feathers tucked behind her ear who was leaning against the bars and reaching out to beckon Emily over. She glanced at the man, who had curled up on the floor again and was sobbing softly, and decided that this woman would probably be in a better state.

“That smoke thing you did was very impressive," the woman said when Emily approached her, “but Percy... He hasn't really had a very easy time of things, and I think you've triggered a flashback of some sort."

“I... I can see that. Hadn't expected you all to have Abbey devouts amongst your ranks, but I suppose I can't really look a gift whale in the mouth now. In any case, I am grateful for what you've attempted, and I think it is only fitting that I show you my face in return."

The young woman then moved to remove the ornate scarf covering her face. She looked at Vex expectantly, as if awaiting some kind of recognition.

“Well, you're very pretty, darling," Vex said after a few moments passed in awkward silence. “But if you're really grateful for... Whatever it is we've done, I think opening these cells would be a better reward?"

“I... I had expected, seeing your clothes and all, that at least one of you would have seen a coin recently? Or a banner? ... In any case, now that I've got enough embarrassment to last me through the winter, let me open those locks for you," the woman said dejectedly.

Everyone thanked the woman once they'd been let out, though Percy still eyed her warily. Pike and Grog immediately ran to each other, the Goliath scooping the Gnome into a great big hug. The twins embraced as well, though in a far more subdued way than the dangerous spinning that was happening with Pike and Grog.

“You okay, Stubby?" Vax murmured as he held his sister tight, sighing in relief when he felt her nod against his shoulder.

A very pointed throat clearing came from the cell Tiberius had been put in, the Dragonborn both still muzzled and not let out yet.

“Tibs! Oh, I'm sorry, could you let him out as well?" Pike gasped, looking at the woman who'd released them. “That muzzle they put on him has a lock on it, too..."

“ _What. Is. That._ "

Emily had seen a lot of things. River krusts, with their nasty acid spit and their rocky shell hugging the walls where you least expected. Bloodfly nests, where the swarm was daring enough to attack bystanders and fill them full of eggs. Hagfishes that could tear out a man's face in seconds. But _this_? The humanoid with a lizard head stared her right in the eyes, the red scales gleaming in the moonlight, and she felt her breath quicken and her heart beat louder in louder in her ears. The walls of Coldridge seemed to shrink around her, and she found herself backing up against the wall and hopelessly fighting the nervous tears filling her eyes.

“Oh, for..."

A whoosh of air past her was the only indication that the male twin had been anywhere near Emily, and when he started sorting through the keys, she realized he had lifted the keyring right from her hand. The lizard thing was freed and the muzzle removed, and it stood up to its full height that easily surpassed 6'5". Emily tensed again when it reached a clawed hand into the robe covering its body... And pulled out a tiny pair of glasses, perching them on the edge of its snout and blinking to adjust its eyesight. It broke into a grin and clapped a hand on the twin's shoulder in thanks before turning to Emily and reaching out a hand.

“Greetings, and salutations," it, no, _he_ said with a rather high-class sounding accent. “I am Tiberius Stormwind, from Draconia. And, uh, moreover, Vox Machina, these lovely people you see before you."

Emily felt the urge to erupt into an unladylike nervous laughter at the sight of this apparition, but held herself as she remembered the whole stealthy important mission aspect of her presence.

“Well greetings yourself, Lord Stormwind, I suppose you can call me Emily for the moment, until I get a quiet moment to explain the situation I have apparently misunderstood. In any case, who's for leaving this damp hole of a prison?"

“We'll need to collect our things," the man who had formerly been panicking spoke up. “I don't suppose you know where they put prisoners' belongings, if they keep them at all?"

Emily gave him a crooked smile. “Oh don't worry, I know enough about this place, my father made sure I'd have an escape plan should another usurper take over. If you're talking about the giant sack of glowing weapons, I left it in the dumpster right outside with the rest of the night shift sleeping soundly, figured I might need more mobility down here."

The man seemed to have tuned out after she said 'dumpster', staring at her with a tight-lipped smile. “I'm sorry," he chuckled nervously, “but it sounded like you said you'd left the _Vestiges_ of _Divergence_ in a _dumpster_."

 _Oh, this was going to be fun._ “Why yes, I suppose I did. Whatever those words meant. Anyhow, ready when you are, guard shift changing soon and all that. By the way, may I just say how horrible it is she even jailed your children? The more I see Delilah in action the more I find her despicable."

The entire group eyed her with looks of unmistakable confusion.

“Children?"

That... Was not the voice she expected to come from the short... Man, apparently.

“There are no children with us," the tiny blonde spoke up. Emily was now _very_ confused.

“... Alright. Well. Apologies for that. Um. Well, I guess we should get a move on then, dumpster's right around the corner and I really miss my ship."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assure you, we'll get to work on this again. It's been a stressful few months, please enjoy this in the meantime, and as always, kudos and comment if you liked this! (I'd also like to apologize for the rapidly changing POV in the latter half, we are quite honestly making this up as we go) - Percy
> 
> Rolls made in this chapter:  
> \- Sleight of hand by Vax to lift the keys from Emily: 24


End file.
